


watch you in your sleep (tonight belongs to me)

by dangerousgays



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Marking, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, M/M, Masturbation, Monster Gerard, Monsters, Multiple Orgasms, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Smut, Teratophilia, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 14:43:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19703488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerousgays/pseuds/dangerousgays
Summary: “My name's Gerard," the thing says, as it rises from its knees. "I'm the monster under your bed.""But why am I— why did you—" Frank whispers.Gerard ghosts a little closer. "You were irresistible," He breathes, like it's a dirty little secret. "Listening to you all the time, smelling you— it wasn’t enough anymore. I had to see you, know what you looked like.”Frank’s fear is melting, turning into something else, something that lays low in his gut, like something he wants.And oh, does he want.“I can’t wait to hear what you sound like when it’s my hand and not your own, doll,” Gerard says. “Would you like that, hmm?”





	watch you in your sleep (tonight belongs to me)

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry. why did i do this? i do not know. i hope u enjoy anyways
> 
> (for those of u lookin for the sequel to come hard, stay clean: shell b out soon!)
> 
> also: i love seeing ur comments and talking 2 u. if u have anything to say— criticisms, requests, anything: i love 2 hear from u guys!!

Frank can't sleep. 

It's too hot. His room feels like a sauna, and he's sure if he opens his eyes, he'll see swirls of steam around him, wall to wall like fog. 

But as hot as it is, he also can't sleep without something covering him. A blanket, a sheet, hell, even a fucking towel. It sort of makes him feel like a six year old sometimes, but it's not like he actually believes in monsters under his bed or killer clowns or anything. 

It's just a feeling he gets, when he's uncovered or whatever— albeit a feeling that seems really, really tangible when it's dark and oppressively humid in his room. 

He opens his eyes with a deep, dramatic sigh to blink, bleary, at the clock on his desk. 

It's 3:42 in the morning. Fuck. 

It's not like he actually has anything to do tomorrow, at all, so maybe it's okay if he doesn't get a ton of sleep. He's actually only planning on marathoning some shitty movies and then jerking off a few times, with maybe, like, a lunch break in between. 

But he has a feeling, a sort of foreboding sense of bad coiling in his stomach, the kind one only really feels during the witching hour, when the air weighs a hundred pounds on your shoulders and the stars shine grey instead of twinkling in a thousand different shades. 

The pile of clothes on the chair in the corner is starting to look like the devil himself. Great, he thinks, huffing. Now he's got sentient dirty laundry. 

Frank closes his eyes again. The sheet scratches at his neck. Fuck, he really needs to wash them. They're pretty rank. Also, he's pretty sure they're supposed to be white, and, well... they're not really anymore. 

He sticks one leg out over the side of the bed, freeing it from the tangle of the sheet. It'll help, he thinks, maybe get rid of excess heat or something. Hell, that's how dogs do it, right? He quickly realizes he's stuck it out too far, though, too far from the protection of the bed and the sheet and he goes to pull it back, but—

There's a whisper of touch on his ankle. It’s fleeting and soft, in a way that could be gentle— or a warning shot. 

Frank's eyes fly back open and he yanks his whole body into the corner, as far away from the edge of his bed as he can. 

What the fuck? 

He calms down almost as quickly as he freaked out, though. He has a fan buzzing in his window— it could have been some errant air currents, or a bug or something. He's being stupid. He's twenty-two. Monsters don't exist, and Frank is a massive pussy for being unable to sleep without a blanket. 

He uncurls himself from his position tucked against into the corner and lays down again, flopping back down onto the pillow and pressing his spine against the wall. 

Frank sticks his foot out over the edge of the  
mattress again. A gust from the fan hits his leg, and he releases his breath. It really was just some air. But then—

This time, the touch is more solid. Fingers wrap around his ankle, cold and way, way too corporeal to be a dream. 

Frank screams and tries to rip his leg out of the grasp of whatever the fuck is living— living!!! under his bed. But the thing's hold is strong— inhumanly strong. It would be nice, if only he could fucking see, so he can tell what the hell he's dealing with. 

As he struggles, a cold feeling starts to crawl up his leg, like frost over grass. His breath is coming in bursts, and he can feel himself starting to get dizzy, but whether it's from the fear or lack of oxygen he doesn't know. 

The thing gives one last tug, sharp and sudden, and it's too strong. Frank tumbles off of the bed, still wrapped in the sheet from all the thrashing around. 

He lands hard with a thump, groaning as pain lances up his spine. Fuck, he's gonna be feeling that one later. 

Frank tries to scramble backwards, to wrench his foot out of the grip still locked around his ankle, but no dice. At all. He can barely even move his leg, which is concerning, because whoever's got him is starting to drag him under the bed. 

"It's not real," Frank says, firmly. Because it can't be. Monsters aren't real. He's, like, lucid dreaming, or whatever they call it. 

A voice emanates from under his bed. "I'm afraid that I'm completely real, darling," it says, and it's grip tightens. "I don't like being told I'm not." The tone is laced with danger, a warning. 

"Fucking stop," Frank says, his voice starting to rise. "Please, please— just, god, leave me alone!" He can feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, bordering on the verge of painful. He kicks out with his other foot, but he keeps sliding on the floorboards, the thing pulling him under the bed with its frigid, iron grip. 

There's a laugh from under the bed. An amused, dark laugh. "No can do, sweetheart."

Frank's breath is still coming in short gasps, which sucks. Of course his asthma pops up for the first time in a decade when he's being kidnapped in his own goddamn room by the fucking monster under the bed. 

"Please," he says again, and he barely recognizes his own voice, high-pitched and scared and almost whiny. "Please, stop, let go of me, this isn't real—"

"I said," the voice hisses, dangerously low, "I don't like being told I'm not real. You'd better start learning to listen real quick, sweetheart." Its fingers tighten, and it pulls him under the bed even more. Only his chest is still out, not quite under the bed skirt, and he can feel a stark temperature difference— his legs are freezing cold— but he doesn't know if it's from shock and fear, or if the entrance to hell is under his bed. 

"Stop," he says again, writhing around, even though by now he knows the thing isn't going to. "Stop, you're scaring me, please—"

"Good," the thing interrupts. "You should be scared." 

Frank can feel the start of tears on his cheeks, weighing down behind his eyes, before he's pulled all the way under. 

He crumples into himself when he hits the ground, which doesn't make sense, because under his bed should be level with the rest of the floor in his room, right?

But when he blinks open his eyes, blurry from tears, he's in another room, one that looks like his. When he glances up, he can see the wooden slats of his bed, eight feet above. 

He starts to sit up, untangling himself from the sheet and his own limbs when he feels, more than sees, the thing approach. An aura of cold precedes it as it kneels down, and Frank finally gets a look at it even as it studies him right back. 

It has surprisingly friendly brown eyes— not quite what he was expecting— but the thing's teeth, jagged and terrifying like a child tried to draw a vampire, detract from any sort of warmth its eyes may have provided. There are three scars running from under the thing's left eye and down its neck, paler than its skin, which is impressive unto itself. Otherwise, it looks— it looks human. 

He's a little disturbed about how attractive he finds the thing, with its high cheekbones and upturned nose and inhumanly long eyelashes. He’s a freak. A disgusting fucking freak. 

It reaches out to trail a finger down Frank's jawbone, stopping underneath his chin and pressing up so Frank is forced to look it in the eyes. 

"Aren't you a pretty little thing," it purrs, voice dangerously soft. "You smell just fantastic." God, it looks like it has a forked tongue. 

"No," Frank tries to say, but it comes out as a weak sort of croak. "No," he repeats. "You're the thing. Not me."

"Pretty little human, then," it amends, eyes sparkling with a joke Frank doesn't get. It cups his chin with the rest of its fingers. "How about you tell me your name, darling." Its grip on his face is as strong as it was around his ankle. 

Frank really, really doesn't want to, but it seems like a bad idea to refuse. "Frank," he says, trying to keep his voice from trembling, what with those killer-looking teeth so close to his face. 

"Frank," the thing repeats, and one side of its mouth quirks up in a smile. "What a precious little name." It lets go of him, but Frank's face stays cold where its fingers touched, an icy caress. 

"My name's Gerard," the thing— Gerard— says, as he rises from his knees. He towers above Frank, which isn't hard, but still— it's imposing. "I'm the monster under your bed."

"I'd gathered," Frank whispers. "But why am I— why did you—" he gestures around vaguely, to the dim, bare room they're in. He can't bring himself to finish the question. 

Gerard cocks his head. "Why did I take you?" he asks, and Frank nods, chewing on his lip ring. 

Gerard ghosts a little closer. He reaches out to run his fingers through Frank's hair, which, fuck, that's a weakness of Frank's. "You were irresistible," Gerard breathes, like it's a dirty little secret. "Listening to you all the time, smelling you— it wasn’t enough anymore. I had to see you, know what you looked like.” 

His fingers dance along Frank’s cheekbone. “I had to touch,” Gerard says, even quieter. 

Frank realizes he’s stopped breathing when he gasps for air. He knows what ‘listening’ implies, knows what the monster wants now. Frank knows he shouldn’t want it too, but he does, wants to prove himself to Gerard, prove he’s good, that he’s worth it. 

Gerard leans down for a second, breath ghosting across Frank’s ear, and Frank can feel his skin prick into goosebumps along his arms. “I must say, you’ve far exceeded my expectations already.” 

A shiver runs down the length of Frank’s body, though if it’s from Gerard’s words or the intensity of his gaze he can’t say. Frank’s fear is melting despite the cold, turning into something else, something that lays low in his gut but in a good way, something he wants. 

And oh, does he want. 

“I can’t wait to hear what you sound like when it’s my hand and not your own, doll,” Gerard says. “Would you like that, hmm?” 

Frank would really, really like that. A lot. He whines, and his brain starts to fog, clouding like the heat in his room that seems worlds away now. “God, yes,” he says, and he can feel himself slipping, wanting to be so good, wanting to please. 

“That’s what I thought, Frankie,” Gerard hums. When Frank finally breaks his burning gaze, he notices the room’s turned into a copy of his, but somehow off— everything’s a shade darker, or maybe a little bigger, or slightly to the left. 

Frank shifts, to move up onto his knees so his legs aren’t crushed under him, but then he’s on the bed somehow, blanket satin-soft beneath him, on his back, the sheet gone. He doesn’t remember moving. 

Frank feels the mattress dip when Gerard climbs up onto the bed. He starts to crawl up Frank’s body, pressed against him, and lies on top of him. Frank feels like he’s on fire, every point of contact a burning star. He doesn’t care how much of a slut it makes him, wanting to fuck the thing that lives under his bed. Or, actually, wanting it to fuck him absolutely senseless until he’s screaming, writhing—

“I can feel you thinking, baby,” Gerard says, pressing his hand onto Frank’s crotch. Fuck, he’s getting hard already, and they haven’t even done anything yet. “What do you want?” He breathes, and when Frank can’t stutter out a response right away, Gerard tangles a hand in his hair, grabbing tight, just enough so that Frank can really feel it. 

“Fuck,” he whimpers, and bucks into the pressure. It sounds slutty even to himself, but he can’t bring himself to care, he just wants more already. Anything more. Anything Gerard will give him. 

“I know what I want,” Gerard says. “Are you gonna be a good boy and listen to me, do what I say?” 

Frank nods, grasping at the sheets, clenching and unclenching. He can’t not. His gut is twisting, hot and heavy, and he just wants to obey, do whatever Gerard wants. “Anything,” he says, meaning it. 

“Wanna watch you jerk off for me,” Gerard breathes, into Frank’s ear. “Want to see what goes with the noises you make, sound so fucking hot.” 

“You listen to me jerk off?” Frank’s voice breaks. God, that’s so messed up, but so fucking hot. 

“Fuck, yes,” Gerard groans, like he’s the one who feels like he’s breaking into a million pieces of starlight, not Frank. “The noises you make, Frankie, god—” He pushes his crotch against Frank’s thigh, and it makes Frank feel a little better, because Gerard’s hard too. Also— he’s huge.

“Go on, doll,” he encourages, breathy, the air still cold around them. “Jerk it for me, baby, wanna see you come all over yourself.” 

Frank’s hand goes to shove his hand into his boxers, but they’re somehow gone, just vanished into thin air. He doesn’t think about it, though. He doesn’t care at all, actually. Gerard is staring at him, intent and enraptured, and even though Gerard has all the authority, Frank feels pretty fucking powerful. 

He licks his hand, keeping his tongue broad, and then wraps his hand around his dick. He’s already slick and leaking, which helps the slide of his hand as he starts to fist himself. 

Gerard leans over him, eyes dark— really dark. They’re black now, Frank realizes, and he’s such a fucking freak but it’s so hot. “Fucking slut,” Gerard says, affectionately. “Jerking it for me, giving me a show.”

Another blurt of pre slides out of Frank’s dick at the words and he throws his head back, moaning loud. Apparently Gerard really likes that, the noises or Frank’s exposed skin, because he slides further up against Frank and pushes his face into Frank’s neck, sniffing. 

Air fans, freezing cold, all the way down to Frank’s collarbone. He squeezes his dick harder, jerks it faster. He reaches his other hand down to play with his balls. 

“Good boy,” Gerard purrs into his neck. “You’re so good, doing exactly what I say.” He starts to snuffle against Frank’s skin, licking him, like he’s tasting him. “Smell so good, god, Frankie,” he says. “I could just eat you up, baby, but I wouldn’t.” He nibbles on a spot he’s been laving at with his tongue. “You’re much too pretty, sweetheart.”

“Bite me,” Frank says, surprising himself. He slides his other hand up to pinch at his nipple, because his hand around his cock is great, but he wants more. He bucks up into his own hand, but then Gerard is there, grabbing his wrist with one hand and pinning Frank’s hips down with the other. 

“Want me to bite you?” Gerard asks, low and dark. “I’ll do it, babydoll. I want to watch you bleed, hear you scream.”

“Fuck,” Frank says again, flicking his thumb over the head of his dick and relishing in the shock that travels up his spine. “Please, fuck yeah, bite me.”

Gerard shoves his face back into the crook of Frank’s neck, where it slopes down to meet his shoulder. He sucks on it hard, pressing it against his teeth, and Frank can feel the edges just barely pressing, and then—

It’s ecstasy. Teeth, jagged and sharp, sink into his skin, points of fire incinerating him from the outside in. Frank can’t take it anymore. He comes with a scream in between their bodies, all over his own fingers, slicks up Gerard’s stomach and his own where their shirts have ridden up. Gerard’s claimed him, now, and Frank knows the scar that’ll form will remind him forever. 

He can smell the tang of blood, metallic where it’s flowing out of him, and Gerard keeps going at it even when he unclamps his jaw. He pushes at the wounds, prods with his forked tongue, making obscene noises as he laps up Frank’s blood. “You’re mine now,” He says, the words vibrating against Frank’s skin. “Mine.”

Frank releases his dick, spent, but Gerard has other ideas. “Keep going, baby,” he purrs. “I didn’t say you could stop, did I?”

Frank whines, and it turns into a screaming moan when Gerard gets tired of waiting for him to do as he says and grabs Frank’s hand to wrap them both around his cock. “I said,” he hisses, dangerously low, “keep going, whore.” 

Fuck. Fucking fuck. He can’t not, he can’t disobey a direct order. Frank starts to stroke himself again, and his cock twitches. It’s too much, but Gerard told him to, so he keeps going, panting and keening. 

A finger prods at Frank’s hole, and he feels himself twitch. When he looks up and meets Gerard’s black gaze, looking like he wants to eat Frank alive, his cock jumps, almost hard again. 

“Can you take it?” Gerard asks. “Wanna take my fingers up your ass, let me stretch you out, or maybe tongue-fuck you?” 

Frank really, really can. “Yes, god, please, Gerard,” he moans. 

“I know you can beg for it better than that, sweetheart,” Gerard says, tracing Frank’s asshole with the tip of one freezing cold finger and watching it contract around nothing. “Did you forget that I listen, Frankie? That I hear every whorish thing that comes out of your perfect mouth?” 

He leans in to nip at Frank’s earlobe before drawing back. “I know what you like, baby,” he whispers, like he’s daring Frank to argue with him. “I know what a good little cocksucker you are, how much you love to get eaten out. I listen, darling, all the time.” He lowers his face between Frank’s legs and then glances up at him again. “Keep going until you come again.” 

He grabs Frank’s knees and shoves his face into Frank’s ass, running his tongue around Frank’s hole and flicking it against the rim. God, now Frank wishes he’d fucked that weird body-mod guy he’d met at the club, because Gerard’s forked tongue feels like heaven, two ends pushing at his asshole until the muscle softens. 

Frank keeps rubbing at his cock, but it’s hard to concentrate. Gerard starts to fuck him with his tongue, flicking it against Frank’s walls. Frank realizes the screaming moans echoing around the room are coming from him. God, it feels so fucking good, and Gerard’s tongue is so long, ramming in and out of his ass like nothing he’s ever had before. 

“More,” he croaks, sounding even more ruined than he feels. “God, more, harder, fuck me with your tongue, please, Gerard—” 

Gerard listens. He shoves his hands under Frank’s ass to lift him up, pushes his tongue even further into Frank’s ass, impossibly deep, and then—

The feeling of a forked tongue flickering over his prostate, wet and slick, his asshole dripping, is all he can take. He comes again, all over his own stomach and his hand, cock twitching weakly as he goes soft. 

When Gerard extricates himself from between Frank’s legs, he looks pleased with himself, his face soaking wet and red from eating Frank out. He must be painfully hard, Frank thinks. 

“So fucking good for me,” Gerard rasps, his tongue flickering at the corner of his mouth. “God, angel, you’d do anything I say, huh?” 

Frank groans and nods, unashamed. He knows he would. God, he’s such a slut. 

“I was gonna ask if you wanted me to come in your ass or in your mouth,” Gerard says, rutting against Frank’s leg, “But it’s not up to you, is it? You’re my little toy now, my cumslut.”

Frank wants to touch. He reaches out for Gerard, and Gerard gives him a little smile. “Gonna fuck your mouth and come all over you, baby, how’s that?” 

Frank just opens his mouth. 

“Perfect little whore,” Gerard coos, and Frank realizes they’re both naked. He has no idea when that happened, but once again, he can’t find the energy to give a fuck. 

Gerard traces Frank’s lips with his cock. It’s huge and slick and red, and it’s making Frank’s mouth actually water. He wants to choke on it, wants it down his throat and stretching his lips. 

Then it’s in his mouth, forcing him to open wider, relax his jaw and his throat as he struggles not to gag. He tongues the slit, tasting Gerard, before running it along the underside. 

Gerard thrusts into his mouth, and the head hits the back of Frank’s throat. He feels it spasm, and he gags, but Gerard just pushes his hips even further forwards. “That’s it, gag on it, baby,” he encourages with a groan. “Look so good choking on my cock, knew you’d be a whore for it.”

Frank cries out around the dick in his mouth, but it’s good, it’s so good, exactly what he wants. To be used, torn apart and put back together however Gerard wants. Too soon, though, Gerard pulls out, leaving Frank feeling empty. God, he just wants to taste it, wants to swallow all of what Gerard will give him. 

“Open your mouth, slut,” Gerard purrs, stripping his own dick with his hand. He shoves the thumb of his other hand between Frank’s lips and pushes down on his tongue, forcing him to open wide and stick his tongue out like a cheap whore. He knows how he probably looks, waiting for Gerard to come in his mouth and all over his face, and he wants it so bad. He whines, loud and desperate. 

“Fuck,” Gerard groans, thumbing at the head of his cock. “You want it, Frankie? Gonna mark you up, make you mine.” He drops his voice, like he’s sharing a secret. “Nobody else can have you now, baby. You belong to me. Anyone touches you, I’ll kill them.” His voice breaks as he works his hand impossibly faster, and Frank loves the view he gets every downstroke, the tip of Gerard’s cock sliding in and out of his hand, slick and filthy. 

Frank tries to stretch out his tongue to lap at Gerard’s dick, the words buzzing in his ears. He can tell it’s not an empty promise. “Please,” he whispers, opening his mouth as wide as he can, an invitation. 

With one last tug, Gerard comes all over his forehead, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, on his tongue. 

He swallows once, but then Gerard is grabbing his hair with one hand and tugging him up for a bruising kiss, a clash of teeth and tongue that Frank feels like he barely survives. He licks into Gerard’s mouth, spit sliding everywhere, come slipping out of his mouth and dripping down his face, smearing all over him. 

“Gorgeous,” Gerard hums when he sits up on Frank’s legs. “You look so good completely ruined, babydoll.”

Frank is tired. He’s so, so tired, to the bone, spent and exhausted. The room melts away, and he can tell he’s back in his bedroom, the way nothing’s off-kilter anymore. 

“You’re mine now,” Gerard says, rolling off to lay next to him, and the fierceness in his voice surprises Frank a little. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised at the possessiveness, though, with how Gerard is during sex. 

Fuck. He totally just had mind-blowing sex with the monster under his bed. 

“You don’t have to stay under my bed anymore,” Frank murmurs quietly, eyes slipping closed. “You can sleep with me.” He doesn’t want to fall asleep, but his eyelids are heavy and his whole body is buzzing. He feels like he’s floating, like if he looked down at himself he’d be glowing. 

“So sweet of you, baby,” Gerard says, and he sounds like he means it. Frank feels soft touches to his face, his arms, his chest, cold and ghosting. “Get some rest, yeah? I’ll see you in the morning.” There’s a cold breeze. The dip in the bed lessens, and Frank knows Gerard is gone— but only for now. Now, he knows how to call him back. 

Tomorrow, he’s gonna take the monster under his bed out for lunch.

**Author's Note:**

> SWEAR 2 GOD THE VAMP AU EXISTS I JUST CANNOT GET IT RIGHT BUT SOMETIME THIS MONTH I PROMISE U. 
> 
> anyways ive got no inspo so if u have any requests as always let me know!! as u can tell by this ill write anything (safe sane n CONSENSUAL and also no gore pls dont b gross thank u)


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